


Home In The Peninsula

by codewordpumpkin



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codewordpumpkin/pseuds/codewordpumpkin
Summary: The aftermath of the succulent goose.





	Home In The Peninsula

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this fic to @eberna22 on Tumblr for persuading me to write this (it all started with my short, innocent comment that ended up being the prompt for this story...)  
> Anyway, super short one-shot, but hope you enjoy!

“So, what’s the verdict?”

Liz allowed Red to help her with her jacket, secretly reveling in the way his hands so fleetingly brushed against her shoulders. Thanking him with a soft smile, she followed him out of the small restaurant, leaning against the wall as they waited for his associate.

“As always, you were right. The goose was perfectly succulent,” she said, then added with a smirk, “ _so_ worth the trip.”

Pleased with her answer, the curve of his lips matched her own.

Just then, a black Mercedes pulled up—really, in some ways, he was so predictable—and with a hand on the door, he waited for her to get in before rounding the car and taking the seat on the other side.

“Where to, Elizabeth?” he asked as they wove back onto the road.

 _So, we're_ _still at Elizabeth._

She was just glad he hadn’t reverted to _Agent Keen_.

Though, she wouldn’t have blamed him had he decided to.

“I’m staying at a hotel close to the airport,” she said, flashing her phone screen to the driver who was not Dembe.

Red nodded. “To The Peninsula, please,” he said casually, disregarding her reply.

She didn’t say anything, instead choosing to face him with a raised brow.

“You cannot afford to travel halfway across the world for a single meal of goose, Elizabeth—succulent though it may be,” he said dryly. “Spending the night at the best hotel the city has to offer? Now that will really make the trip worth it.”

He must have thought she would argue, judging by the surprised look he shoots her when she simply grins. Truthfully, she was glad he was making her stay with him, thankful to have even one more minute in his presence. She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to hear—but that all could wait. For now, they were both alive, the truth was out, and they were in Hong Freaking Kong. Unable to completely squish her giddiness, a disbelieving chuckle escaped, and it was his turn to arch a brow.

Instead of explaining herself, for she would surely become a blushing, bumbling mess, she shook her head, the quirk of her lips never coming down.

As grand and impressive as The Peninsula was, she couldn’t take her eyes off Red long enough to properly take everything in. In what seemed like no time at all, they were stepping off the elevator—the top floor, of course—and entering a suite that felt more like a mansion.

“Wow,” she said, immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows and the incredible view of the city skyline.

As it was quite late, the sky was nearly pitch black, and the clear glass allowed her to watch as Red moved around. He appeared at her side a few moments later.

“How about a nightcap while we wait for your luggage?” he offered, two glasses of amber liquid already in his hands.

Nodding, she accepted, taking a generous sip so that she’d have the alcohol to blame for the flush on her skin.

A stretch of silence ensued, and although it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, it wasn’t particularly comfortable, either.

There was something that could no longer wait.

“I once asked if you loved my mother,” she blurted, not wanting to lose her nerve.

He stiffened, but didn’t comment.

Draining the rest of her drink, she studied him through the reflection. “Were you in love with her, too?”

He shifted his gaze to the tumbler in his grip, twirling it mindlessly. Chewing the corner of his lip, he finally said, “I thought I was, at the time.”

“And in hindsight?” she asked quietly.

“… No.” He sighed wearily. “Young and infatuated, maybe, but… No, I was never in love with her.”

In that instant, she felt more drunk on relief than the scotch.

_But drunk is drunk, right?_

She turned to face him, and he mirrored her, their eyes meeting and holding each other captive.

“And me?” she whispered, closing the distance until they were toe-to-toe. Their breaths mingling, she brought her free hand to his cheek, gently stroking his smooth skin. “What do you feel about me?”

He wasn’t as mindful with the glass as she.

It landed with a thud—thankfully not breaking—but neither of them payed it any mind, for his own palms now encased her upturned face, and their soft lips managed to be rough with each other, fueled by passion, want, _need_ …

All too soon, they broke apart, their hearts racing as they tried to outrun the inferno inside them—so unlike the fire from over two decades ago, the very one that had burned scars into their flesh and etched tragedy into their lives.

And yet, through it all, here they were.

Together.

“You…” he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. “ _You are everything, Lizzie_.”

Finally.

_Finally, they found their way home._


End file.
